Hi there you,
Why did the egg cross the road?
To berate someone for their 140-character political views.
Twitter is an excellent source of information, of humour and of photos of cats with superhero costumes on. Things can be delivered almost instantly into your eyes in small, easily digestible nuggets and you can pretty much pick and choose who to talk to out of a cast of millions. You can also see boobs really easily. Most of all it is fun, a place to engage with friends and to escape from real life and the washing up.
The downside to Twitter is that it is full of wannabe political, financial and social experts, and whenever a major event occurs, be it the UK Brexiting out of Yerp, the election of Donald Trump as King of America or the death of someone who was on telly once and we really liked then; then folk suddenly feel the urge to force every emotion, be it anger, rage, sadness or confusion into the timeline.
Now, in small doses this is fine, and yes, as an echo chamber, Twitter offers a good place to find people who share your views. I’ve made many friends there based on my love of the movie Biggles, and how wrong I am for thinking it is amazing. However, there comes a point when that echo chamber turns into one of those tubes that you get from the funfair, spinning around making regular air sound like WHUUUUUUUUUUUH-WHUUUUUH and that’s when it stops being fun and starts to give you a headache. That is when the anger and rage and confusion start to eat away at the fun and all you’re left with is a continuous stream of people complaining about the same three things ad infinitum.
As a real world metaphor, consider being sat in the pub with Frank and Dave. Frank is usually very funny and is always available with facts about the second series of Seaquest DSV, when it went all militaristic and slightly further into the future. Unfortunately, Frank’s boss is moving the company abroad and Frank is uncertain about his financial future. Usually, Dave would be there to help you reassure Frank that everything will turn out fine and you can all continue to have a bit of fun. Even Frank feels a bit happier because he sees that life goes on, and at least you’ll be there for him.
Unfortunately for both you and Frank, Dave has just discovered that his boss has been replaced after eight years by someone whose views on all manner of topics he disagrees on. Despite having a minor input onto who his new boss might be, Dave’s views were generally ignored and he isn’t happy about that. Dave spends his entire night telling you how unpleasant his new boss is, how his pretty wife doesn’t look happy near him, and how he said unpleasant things about grabbing a cat or something when he was on a bus. Usually, Frank would chip in and help you explain to Dave that, sure, your new boss might be a dick, but he’s not the only person in charge of the company. There’s a board of shareholders who make most of the decisions, as well as a level of upper management that can prevent him from doing too much harm.
But no, both Frank and Dave are in their own downward spirals, and there is nothing you can do to just take life as it comes and try and make some fun out of life. You attempt to make a joke or two, but they’re too mad to care. You’re basically stuck with two people who just seem to see the downside to their own situations and have no hope for the future.
There is still fun to be had at this metaphorical pub, but you feel a bit of guilt for leaving Frank and Dave to their issues. Should you attempt to tell them that everything will be alright or will that anger them even more, and make you look like the bad guy? Is it wrong to ask someone to be positive and just enjoy themselves, to concentrate on having fun or to not get fed up with the things that they really can’t do anything to change?
The moral to this story? I dunno, I kinda got lost in the metaphor and then deleted a really long portion of text that took the story off on a really odd tangent involving photos of my dinner and intricate descriptions of the layout of the food items on the plate (it ended up looking like a face).
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want my Twitter to be fun, and not a constant mishmash of people complaining about stuff. I want jokes about how deadly toast is, I want to see funny videos of horses being ridden by someone in a dinosaur costume, and I really don’t want to see people getting angry about someone saying something unpleasant that was probably out of context in the first place.
Life is too short to spend it complaining and being grumpy, and I’ve just wasted some of my life writing 900ish grumpy complainy words. Although complainy isn’t a word, so make that 899ish words.
Have fun. Play. Be happy.
You’re going to die from eating burnt toast soon enough.